Compensation
by daydreamer626
Summary: "Your mother is on her deathbed. Her only wish? To lay eyes on her daughter one last time." "You lie." "Your mother's illness is as true as I am a baron, m'lady,"


**My first Harry Potter fic. I was just lounging around, and my brother changed the TV to The Deathly Hallows Part 2, where Harry talks to the Grey Lady. I liked the part, so I looked it up in the book, and... well, you can piece the rest together. A Harry Potter one-shot.**

**Enjoy!**

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Helena hurried through the forest as fast as her heavy cloak would allow her. In her pale hands, her mother's diadem was clutched tightly. How he, of all people, had managed to find her was anyone's guess, but all she knew was that she had to get away from him, and fast.

She looked into the dark blue sapphire of her pilfered treasure. She saw her own face in the bright sunlight, a face of pride. Running away, well out of her mother's reach, was easily accomplished. The lonely forests of Albania would be the perfect place to hide her mother's greatest possession.

Helena's grip on the diadem increased as she thought of her mother. She was so famed, known for her wisdom and cleverness. which was incredibly reputable. Her daughter, Helena, on the other hand, was commonly referred to as "Rowena's daughter." She had put up with it, sporting a façade of politeness and modesty, but it only made her angrier as time passed. Helena had convinced herself that her mother would not be so clever if that diadem wasn't nearby for her use.

It had all been too easily accomplished. Helena had snuck into her mother's chambers late one night, successfully solved the riddle ("Think of words ending in -gry. Hungry and angry are two of them. There are only 3 words in the English language. What is the third word?"), and used a relatively new spell, Accio, to quickly and quietly secure the diadem.

She fled the castle, traveling by Muggle means so any pursuers would find it even more difficult to track her whereabouts.

_Snap_!

Helena tensed at the noise. No, it couldn't be him. How had he tracked her down? She had inherited her mother's cleverness, but it was always overshadowed by the same person. Not anymore, Helena thought to herself. She glanced around fervently, looking for a place to hide the diadem. The heavy sound of pursuing boots echoed louder and louder as her panic rose.

There! A small hole in a nearby tree suddenly became visible.

Helena rushed to the tree with gnarled roots. She all but shoved the silver crown into the hole, relieved to find that it was just big enough to hide the treasure, and in a place no one would think to look.

"Helena!"

The Baron. She couldn't- no, won't- look at him. She told herself she wouldn't be moved by his pleas, or his baritone voice any more.

"Helena, I've found you." His voice, deep and laced with arrogance, rang in her ears as she forced herself to acknowledge her pursuer, her one way lover.

"What is it you desire?" Helena spat venomously. The Baron had made far too many amorous advances to her, all of which ended horribly. Tracking her down to a lonely forest in Albania made him seem desperate, his love for her almost obsessive.

"Your mother is on her deathbed," the Baron explained, removing his hat, as a gentleman does when in the presence of a lady. "Her only wish? To lay eyes on her daughter one last time." He extended a beefy arm towards her.

"You lie." Helena's words were barely a whisper. There have been times in the past when the Baron tricked her into going places with him, using various excuses. She pressed her back against the tree in which the diadem lay. He couldn't know what she had taken; it would give him all the more reason to entreat her to return to Hogwarts.

"Your mother's illness is as true as I am a baron, m'lady," the Baron returned, bowing his head so his long, dark locks fell into his face. Helena could see he was struggling a little to hold his temper.

"Then there is no illness, as you are no BARON!" Helena shouted, uncaring of the words she shouted, or of wandering ears. Without waiting for an answer, she turned on her heel and stalked deeper into the woods. She vainly hoped he would not follow; she had only gone a few paces when she heard more branches break, and a heavy hand pressed down on her shoulder. Helena refused to turn around, or attempt to throw the hand off her.

"Helena..." The Baron's anger was more noticeable now. "You would deny your mother her dying wish?"

"Yes, and much more if it means journeying with you!" Helena glared defiantly at the Baron, refusing to cower. She winced as the grip on her shoulder tightened.

"I've spent so much time tracking you down for your dear mother. The only reason I was able to find you is because the people you passed noticed your rich clothing, and the fact you were without companion." Yes, this made sense, Helena thought, still glaring at the Baron. In the Muggle world, it would be seen as suspicious if a woman was travelling by herself. She should've known.

"Please leave me be; my mother would never claim me as her own."

"But she would. Helena, she misses you," the Baron returned, releasing his grip on her shoulder, but for some reason, Helena didn't run away. "Please. Come back with me. We can all be happy again."

Her mother's happiness was one of the few things she desired. Yet, there was something in the tone of his voice that made Helena wary. She knew of the Baron's hot temper; it was underlying the surface of his numerous yet vain attempts to woo her.

"Alright. I will return with you to Hogwarts," Helena capitulated, turning her body towards him. "But only to see my mother again. I must explain my imprudent actions to her, and implore her forgiveness." Whether or not he understood her big words was a mystery.

Everything happened slowly. Helena could feel the Baron withdraw quietly, so as to allow her to walk ahead of him. Quickly, she jerked herself away from the Baron, pulled her skirts up above her ankles, and ran as fast as she could to her left. She congratulated herself over her decision to wear sturdy clothes over the flimsy, gossamer material when she was at Hogwarts. Muttered, angry curses met her ears as the pounding of boot began to sound again.

How long she ran, she wasn't sure, but finally, she felt a strong force grab her dark blue cloak and jerk her back. Startled by the sudden grip, Helena lost her balance, and fell onto her hands and knees, feeling several small scrapes form as her body made contact with the hard earth. As if it too were frightened by what was to come, the sun rolled behind large, dark clouds that foreshadowed rain. Slowly, struggling to keep her face emotionless, Helena turned her head to the sky, oblivious to the fat droplets of rain falling on her face, in her eyes.

He stood over her, his carefully crafted dark locks slightly askew, his black eyes glinting with maliciousness. In desperation, Helena whipped out her wand, intending to not harm, only to distract, and pointed it at the man before her. The spell in mind was barely a thought when a sharp pain attacked her hand, causing her wand, her sole defense, to fly away from its owner.

"Your mother knew I would not fail in anything when you're involved; she knew I would return only if you're with me," the Baron stated, drawing his boot back slowly. "Clever Helena, clever little daughter of Rowena Ravenclaw."

Whether it was the Baron's taunts or the revelation that her own mother sent someone her daughter abhorred that made her angry, Helena couldn't be sure. "My mother was wrong; I'll never return with the likes of a man like you!"

"A man like- I beg your pardon!" The Baron sputtered indignantly.

"An overfed, pompous, arrogant, hot-tempered, pathetic excuse of a man! That's who you really are! You were, and never will be, good enough to deserve me!" Helena screamed, pushing herself to her feet to flee again. The rain was coming down harder, a flash of lightning was visible just long enough for Helena to hesitate. Suddenly, she felt a stabbing pain in her chest. She gave out a shrill scream of pain, and instinctively grasped at the wound, hoping to stem the flow of blood crusading from her chest. The last thing she saw was the Baron, anger ebbing away from his eyes as remorse filled his eyes at what has just happened. Then the pain hit her ten times harder than the knife's impact; her eyes rolled into her head as her vision went white.

"No... NO! What have I done?" He didn't waste any time; his love of the woman whom he had just stabbed drove him to gently pry the knife out of Helena Ravenclaw's chest, purposely avoiding her shocked brown eyes. The rain, he noticed, wouldn't seem to wash away Helena's blood. Good, he thought, steeling himself, this is one crime for which I cannot be made to compensate. He was ready now. He kissed two fingers, touched them to Helena's soft, yet paling lips, then gripped the dagger tightly and plunged it down into his heart. Surprisingly, he felt almost no pain, felt no blood drip down his skin. Now, he would pay the ultimate price for his rashness.

_I'm sorry, m'lady; I have failed,_ the Baron thought._ Helena, I will always love you._ His eyes drooped and he dropped with a thud onto the forest floor.

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**Like it? Love it? I hope I was able to correctly characterize Helena and the Baron, as we don't know a great deal about their personalities.**

**By the way, does anyone know the answer to the riddle (you're a genius if you don't look it up)?**

**Ciao!**

**~dd626**


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